XGrease
by DameRelent
Summary: While on vacation Charles Xavier meets Erik Lensherr and spends a romantic summer at the beach, but when Charles doesn't return home and enrolls at X High instead will his and Erik's love be rekindled or smolder out into ashes?
1. CH 1: That Erotic Beach Prelude

In which Alyssa gets cheesy and makes an X-Men / Grease crossover.

I have an affinity for silly titles. So, um, yeah. This an X-Men (Cherik) crossover with that fucking snazzy musical movie Grease. This isn't set in 1959 though because, well, Erik and Charles being male would make the story way more complicated than the movie is and I don't feel like messing with that. SO MODERN SETTING. YAY. Sorry, guys, no Charles in poodle skirts. Also, there probably won't be any singing because I can't parody music if my life depended on it and Erik suddenly bursting out into song on some bleachers is just awkward. You can pretend it's there if you really need it though. I'm probably boring you with my rambling but let me continue ruining the story for you. I have never drowned before. I don't know what it feels like. So sorry if Charles' experience is completely unreal.

Just so you know, there be **sexy tiems** in these waters, because, unlike Sandy, Charles isn't about to give up a chance to tap that fine ass.

* * *

><p>Summer break is usually a time for new beginnings. The season when you rush out to see new sights, form new relationships, make new goals, and basically just have a bit of fun. Charles Xavier was at least doing some margin of this as he stood at the back of a sunny beach, towel and sunscreen in hand. This was his parent's idea of a vacation or, to put it more truthfully, a way to get him out of their hair. So he was dreadfully alone on a beach, staring out at the rolling waves in front of him and wondering what could possibly make this trip any less boring.<p>

Of course that's the moment when he was knocked out of his stupor of thought by a shoulder ramming straight into his spine. He bucked forward from the force, dropping his sunscreen in the process, and just about fell down completely if the offending person hadn't promptly turned about-face and grabbed him by the shoulder to stop his descent. "Sorry about that," the stranger apologized while picking up and returning the lost sunscreen. Charles would have replied with a kind, "It's no problem at all," but he didn't even get the chance to see the other's face before he had taken off. All he saw as he looked up from the object in his hand was a broad back and black swim trunks snugly wrapped around a slim waist that were jogging away on a pair of muscular, yet skinny, legs.

"There goes my chance at socializing," he sighed to himself as he eyed the rest of the desolate beach. He starts trudging along through the sand and grumbles something about his parents having the decency to send him to a beach devoid of life. With the hot sand catching on his sandals and burning the soles of his feet it seems like it takes ages to find the right spot to lay out his towel. He gets on all fours and flattens it out before burying the edges in sand to keep any wind from carrying it off. He then lets out a breath and sprawls out on his back.

The sky is a mixture of blue and the puffy white that comes from the many clouds slowly floating along in the atmosphere. Even amongst the clouds the sun is still shining down ferociously though. Sweat is forming in various places on Charles' body. He can feel his skin smoldering under the heat. The inside of his eyelids are burning red before he lays an arm across his face to block out the sunrays. Cold, salty water is calling him. However, he just wants a moment to take it all in. It's not often he gets the chance to lie out across some steaming sand and tune into the sounds of the ocean. Seagulls' wings flapping obnoxiously loud as they squawk at each other. The shore trying to peacefully lull anyone to sleep with the soft, rhythmic breaking of waves. Further out you can hear the more violent break of water against sudden protruding rocks. Then further still are the sounds of fishing boats or cruise ships or maybe just some rich weirdo trying to get kicks with a yacht.

Enough of that. Charles sits up abruptly and pops open the sunscreen. He should have lathered down a long time ago. With his pasty complexion he is probably already turning pink and his mother wouldn't be happy if he turned up in front of guests with sunburn, skin peeling in unappealing ways. She was pretty adamant about appearances, which leaves him wondering why she allowed a trip to the beach anyway. He doesn't tan. He only sunburns. It's bound to happen no matter what amount of protection he rubs into his skin. That being the facts, he wasn't about to let the thought of his angry mother keep him from any amount of enjoyment he could happen upon while here.

Charles ran straight into the water, lightly diving underneath the swollen waves so as to get that initial shock of change in temperature over with. When he slipped back up to the surface he had already been carried out a little ways. It was enough to stand with the water up to his shoulders, soft mud and hard shells between his toes. The moving water bounced around him, covering his whole self as it moved upward and leaving him to spit out salt water as it moved down again. He kept moving further and further away from the shoreline, just letting the waves move him along. It was actually quite pleasant and he was ready to just lay back and be swept away until he saw what most certainly, most undoubtedly, most alarmingly had to be the fin of a shark.

At first he told himself he had to be seeing things, it was just pollution, trash, but it was coming closer, straight for him in fact. Then he took a different root in strategy and told himself repeatedly to calm his mind. Maybe it wasn't there to tear him into pieces and swallow him down for lunch. Maybe it just wanted to check out who else was having a good time in the ocean. Just keep calm, stay still, it will swim away on its own accord without bothering the silly human. That's when a cramp decided to forge its way into his right leg, a big charley horse right down in the core of his calf. If he hadn't been instantly drenched in dread Charles would probably be telling himself he needs to get out more, work out a little, then maybe this problem wouldn't had presented itself, but those ideas are for another time. If there is one. He tried to keep himself afloat with the one lower limb he had working and the two up top, but cramps have a way of stealing your energy and concentration and he was quickly finding himself deeply underwater. Forget the shark; he was getting a one-way ticket to suffocation by H2O. Charles reached his hands up through the water, grasping and pulling at nothing but the ocean around him. His one leg that wasn't crippled by straining muscle was kicking furiously, but to no use as it soon tired out and did nothing but weigh him down as well. He tried to stare up through the murky water to try and find something, some way, to pull him free of his nearing death. He only managed to spot a dark shape closing in on him before he had to shut his eyes away from the stinging salt. Hoping it wasn't a shark ready for its next meal, Charles took the chance of reaching out towards the shape as the last of his breath went and he began to feel himself drifting away.

* * *

><p>"<em>If you don't wake up<em>…," Charles felt airy and light and there was this voice griping at him for some reason. He just wanted to sleep and keep this tingly feeling in his body, but that voice, "_I will find your ghost and personally exorcise it with the most painful exorcism imaginable_." Ghost? Exorcism? Charles wasn't quite grasping the intention of this disembodied voice or what it could possibly be trying to get at with its threats. He figured it was pointless to entertain to this voice's demands anyway and a much better idea to slip softly onto the cloudy bed of sleep that was beckoning him.

Charles was slowly letting the deep sleep take him away. The feeling in his body, that rough tingling sensation that told him he was still there, was flowing out of him as well. His toes went, his feet went, and his legs began to numb. Then he felt a pinch in his nose, something soft against his lips, and hot air pushing into him.

Then his lungs burst with cutting pain and he suddenly ached all over, from head to toe. He couldn't breathe. There was some salty, burning liquid coursing up his throat. Something pounded down on his chest once, and then twice, maybe a third, actually probably several times that he wasn't able to keep up with. He wasn't really counting though. He felt close to puking. Something was pressed against his mouth again, but he didn't have time to focus on it because Charles was suddenly jolting to consciousness, the presence backing away as he spit up salt water. His body convulsed slightly as it rid itself of all the liquid blocking its breathing capabilities.

"It's about time. I thought you were a going to die on me and leave me with the guilt of having caused your early demise."

Charles made some garbled noise of confusion, "What?" His vision was still blurry and his head was pounding with a horrific headache. He shakily raised an arm and pressed two fingers to his temple to try to massage out the pain.

"You ended up drowning because I frightened you with my shark impression, did you not?"

"Wait," Charles sat up with a slight grimace crossing his face, "That _wasn't_ a shark? It was you playing a _trick_? Putting aside the fact I drowned due to a cramp…" Charles' vision was focusing now and his eyes widened just slightly as he got a better look at his savior. Strong jaw, prominent cheekbones, and striking green eyes. This guy was actually quite handsome. Under further inspection he noticed something he'd seen before—those black swim trunks on that slender waist. "You're the one who rammed into me earlier today!"

"Not the phrase I would use while looking at another man's crotch—"

"I wasn't looking!" Charles spluttered embarrassingly. "I just recognized your shorts from before." His ears reddened slightly as he realized how this probably all sounded.

"Yes, I am the one who _rammed _into you," the stranger said, leaning in close and flashing a toothy grin, "What of it?"

Charles slapped a hand across his mouth, trying to cover the hideous laughter that was escaping him. "When you were impersonating," he threw up some air quotes for emphases," a shark, were you just showing off your teeth?"

His new acquaintance pulled back with an irritated look spread across his face, maybe even a slight twitch in his eye.

"Oh, don't feel insulted by my silly remarks. You have a lovely smile, brightened my day." Charles smiled himself, his bright lips cracking a bit from being chapped by the sun. He then held out a hand as greeting, "I'm Charles by the way, Charles Xavier. I had meant to talk to you when you ran into me, but you took off too quickly."

"Erik Lensherr," he mumbled in return and hesitantly held out his hand which Charles snatched up in both of his palms and shook enthusiastically. Maybe this vacation wasn't go to be as of a bore after all.

* * *

><p>Several of their summer days after that first meeting were spent walking the shoreline together. They had serious conversations about a number of topics, talking with exuberance and determination in their ideals. The two had differing viewpoints in many areas but none of this made either dislike the other in any amount. At other times, when they had run out of breath for words, they just walked in silence. It wasn't awkward at all. Just being in the presence of the other was enough to have a time well spent. Listening to the waves with someone else, drawing adjacent lines in the wet sand with their heels, and occasionally pushing one another into the water and trying to run off before getting an equally wet punishment.<p>

It was on one of those silent, shore walking days that Charles reached out his hand and interlaced his fingers with Erik's. There wasn't much thought put into. He just felt like doing so. So he did. When he did they both stopped in their onward march and looked uncertainly at their clasped hands. Charles wiggled his fingers and then pressed their tips against the back of Erik's hand. Erik's thumb moved tentatively over Charles'. The two smiled a little to themselves and then looked up at each other with ridiculous grins plastered on their faces.

Some of their summer days were spent specifically in the sand. Nonchalantly digging holes as they stared out at the horizon, burying each other from feet to neck, and even building intricate sand castles when they felt like being creative were ways they passed the time. They would end up having to take a dip in the ocean late at night just so they wouldn't end up going home covered in scratchy sand. The water would be freezing by then and their skin would prick up with goose bumps. Being cold and wet would snap them out of their fatigue and grabbing their things and walking up the beach was a slow process because leaving then seemed like a horrid thing to do.

One of those days they were building a giant fortress with plastic buckets and tools and water brought up from the ocean. It was by far the greatest castle they'd put together through their tedious effort. Charles had a disposable camera on him that day and he begged Erik to pose in front of it for a picture. He quickly caved under those puppy blue eye and when he went to position himself he tripped and ended up sitting down on a sandy wall. Charles laughed, snapping a picture quickly, and Erik stood to throw a handful of sand at him for taking such a shot. He ran after the escaping paparazzi and knocked him to the ground. Charles was laid out flat on his back, Erik's hands resting idly in the sand on either sad of Charles' head as he holds himself up. They stare blankly at each other for just a few seconds before Charles' face is lighting up with that pleased smile of his and he brings the camera up between them to snap another picture. Erik steals the offending item, tosses it aside, and slowly moves in closer. They can both feel the other's breath on their faces. The tips of their noses are touching. Then there's a small hitch in Erik's breathing before he presses their lips together.

Then there's that one day. That last day. The day Charles has to say goodbye a million times over before taking his plane back to England. It's not worth it to try and make the day like the rest, pretend it's not over. They don't want to try anyway, because it's not the same as the rest of summer. Today's their last chance together, they won't see one another again for a long time, maybe never, and those few hours have to be special.

Each of their towels are laid out next to each other in the sand and they are sitting right in the middle of them, facing the ocean. Charles is laid back against Erik's chest, Erik's arms draped over his shoulders. They spend the whole day sitting just like that, Charles constantly running his fingers over Erik's hands, talking quietly. It isn't until the sun has completely disappeared from the sky that Erik shifts from his position.

He smirks as he rolls on top of Charles and plants a kiss on a sensitive part of his neck. Charles tries to mask the change in his breathing but the continued press of lips down his skin makes its difficult. He presses up on Erik's shoulders with the palms of his hands, "Erik, what if someone sees?"

"Are you kidding?" Erik slides his fingers down the chest beneath him. "Have you seen a single other person here the whole summer?"

That was apparently sufficient enough reassurance because Erik was suddenly rewarded with Charles grinding up against him needily. They both groaned softly into each other's mouths as their lips met and they kissed with an overpowering need to be as close as possible. Charles' hands moved up into Erik's hair where they stroked and tugged and tried to memorize the texture and the way every strand fell. Erik's hands were doing much the same, but instead roaming every piece of flesh, every curve. When they did at last break their lips apart it was only so Erik could press his into the small crook behind Charles' ear, then his jaw, down his neck, a line of kisses across his collar bone, and then down his chest before his mouth began to miss Charles' tongue and he had to lock lips with him again. Their breathing was starting to get heavy as they helplessly ground against each other, trying to satisfy themselves with a constant friction between their covered erections.

Getting impatient, Erik's hand slipped down to Charles' waistband and his fingers wrapped excitedly around it. "Is it okay?" he breathed, moving slightly away from Charles' face, those reddened lips gasping for his own to come back.

"Do you really need to ask?" Charles laid his own hand on the one at his waist and helped push his swim trunks down, raising his hips to get them completely off. Erik made to continue on with their love making, but Charles practically whimpered his name as he took a hold of Erik's shorts to indicate that he wanted the both of them entirely exposed. Erik playfully rolled his eyes but answered his partner's wishes anyway, removing his only clothing and chucking it off into the sand somewhere. They kissed again briefly and then Erik lifted one of Charles' legs over his shoulder, "I can't draw this out any longer, Charles."

Charles only nodded and tilted his head back against the towel, mentally readying himself. He didn't want to wait any longer either. His fingers clawed into the cloth beneath him and he temporarily stopped breathing as he felt Erik move in close to him. Then he couldn't stop his upper half from lifting inches off the ground, his shoulders cringing and his face grimacing in pain as Erik pushed inside him. He huffed and writhed a little when the movement suddenly stopped. "Are you okay?" Erik asked, the concern apparent in his expression and the inflection in his voice. "Maybe we should stop and prepare you properly instead of—"

"No," Charles interrupted, "no. Just… go slow. Slow." He rested his back against the ground again and let out a long shaky breath. He reached a hand up and, with a slight smile, slipped it into the hand Erik had resting on his thigh. Erik apologetically squeezed Charles' clammy hand and began to push inside him once more. He managed to move all the way in without too much of a fuss, but Charles asked him to stay for a moment before pulling out to give him a chance to recuperate. They stayed that way for a minute or two, just blissfully joined together and their breathing reaching equilibrium. Erik wouldn't have mind if they spent hours in that position, but Charles eventually gave him the okay to continue on.  
>Their rhythm started out sluggishly, a soft rocking that could have sent either of them to sleep. As Charles began to feel more pleasure than pain though they gradually picked up the pace and at some point Erik hit just the right spot. Charles' entire body lit up with pleasure like a lightning strike and he moaned loudly, "Aah, Erik, right there. " He wrapped his other leg around Erik's back to make it easier. Erik leaned in closer as he picked up the speed and Charles draped his arms around the man's neck, fingers digging into the skin of his back. The constant movement had disheveled their makeshift mat and Charles' slightly reddened back was being rubbed smooth by the sand with every thrust. Each grunt and moan was being picked up by the wind and wafted off into the ocean.<p>

"Erik, Erik, _yes_, _faster_."  
>"<em>Fuck<em>, Charles, I—"

"I know, I know, me too. Just haa—" Charles moaned and tightened his grip around the body he held, burying his face in the crook of Erik's neck. He couldn't help but smile to himself as Erik moaned hotly in his ear as they both came. Charles shook as that last spout of pleasure ran through his body. The two of them were sticky from cum and sweat and their breathing labored. They would probably make their way over to the water to clean up later, but for now they were satisfied with lying in each other's arms.

Charles sighed, "Erik, is this the end?"  
>The green eyes in front of him turned questioning and then softened and a hand ran through his sweat dampened hair, "Of course not, it's only the beginning."<p> 


	2. CH 2: Reminiscence Without Dancing Shoes

Okay. Let's see. Angel, Hank, Sean, Alex, Azazel, and Janos are acting the parts of the three groupies of each sides. Their positions in the group are static, but the role's they play are pretty fluid and mixed up between each of the characters. asjgnhsghaiujbuifdhgmalg Also, I hate writing Azazel and Janos so they won't do much. Hell, I don't even think Janos has been named this chapter. Raven's personality in this story is based more off her personality in the first three movies than it is First Class. Now that I'm done rambling, have at!

* * *

><p>It's the first day back to school at X High and everyone is frantic with mixed emotions. Excitement, confusion, and even dread are filling the air with that familiar first day buzz as the front yard is amassed with students going every which way. There are those hunting down friends, those already swapping their schedule info, and some just gearing up to go to class. Off in the center you can find a small three person group slowly making their way to the front doors. They would possibly get there sooner if it wasn't for their messing around, or maybe not, seeing as they didn't seem the type to care for arriving early.<p>

One dirty blonde and another with sleek black hair were teasing the third party of the group. It was just a quick grab at his lunch, a toss over the head, and a silly remark. Nothing but childish fun. Then they spotted only a few feet away the blonde haired, badass beauty of their group poking a jab at some lower chained nerd. "Hey, it's Raven!" one of them shouted and then repeated her name in a way to catch her attention. All three dashed over to her position, eagerly surrounding her like children waiting for a story.  
>"Where were you all summer?" the blonde boy questioned as soon as they were all settled into their huddle.<p>

"What's it to you?" Raven fixed the collar of her tight leather jacket and the other boys smirked at this blatant reproach. The one who asked immediately had a change in attitude and the smile left his face. "I was just askin'."

"I was working, unlike any of you."  
>"<em>Working<em>?"

"That's right," she coolly crossed her arms across her chest and smiled smugly. "I'm saving up to get some wheels."

One of the three started to ask if she wanted to hear about his summer, but he was brushed off and instead pointed out the last member of their group standing nearby, the leader in fact. "There's Erik." Raven brightened at that and turned, waving him over, "Erik! Hey, Erik!"

The so-called turned around in their direction and started making his way over to them as they all called their greetings. Just as the three had done with Raven, all four gathered quickly around Erik into a close little cluster and someone asked the repeating question of the day, "What did you do all summer?"

Erik looked back and forth between all four of his companions, "Just swimming down at the beach. The usual." He shrugged slightly and moved his legs back and forth as if getting a little antsy. Raven eyed him suspiciously as she watched his uneasy dance, "Did you meet someone down there?"  
>That earned her a sharp look that was quickly softened and hidden away as he made out to answer the question. "I did," he stopped short for a moment, "I did meet some foreign guy. We chatted. He was decent."<p>

Raven would have questioned him further, but the first bell of the day rang and Erik took off for the doors. The rest trailed behind like a pack, followed by a moving mob of students coming up behind them. Further behind, unbeknownst to the group who was just shuffling inside, was the exact person Erik had been speaking of.

"Do I look alright, Moira?"

The long, auburn haired girl walking beside him looked him up and down. He wore gray khakis with a baby blue button up shirt, the top two buttons undone to give a little neck room. One would probably think he was a teacher with how well-groomed he was. "You look fine."

"I have to say, I actually am a bit nervous," he looked up at the towering school and then around himself at fellow students. There were giggling girls and bulky jocks. There were the theatrical, the studious, and those who didn't quite fit under the usual label, but still had a group around them who were of similar style. "So this is X High?" he said ponderingly.

"You'll love it."

Then across the grass, all the way back at the parking lot, a trio of people were just arriving in their beat up car. A female shimmied out of the driver's seat. She swiped her silky black hair off her shoulder and removed the sunglasses she wore as the two boys who had been in the back seat came walking up behind her. "Here we are again," she sighed.

"Yes, but this time we're seniors," replied the tall, bespectacled boy to her left.

"And we're going to rule the school," she was absolutely smug in her demeanor as she threw on her jacket and began to walk with a more self-important air around her. The two beside her eyed each other wearily but followed her lead.

Back inside the school the staff is frantic with first of the day worries and problems. Teachers are getting together their class plans and gathering up rosters. The nurse is preparing for the rush of students bringing in prescribed meds. Then the principle and secretaries are rushing about trying to find missing papers and lost files. It doesn't help that the students are already piling in and going crazy in the hallways before class begins. It's amongst all this that Charles makes his way to the office counter. He sets his binder down in front of him and smiles cheerfully at the teachers around him.

"May I help you, dear?" the principle stops in her tracks, a stack of papers in hand.  
>"Yes, I'm a new student here and not really sure where I'm supposed to be."<p>

The older woman pats him reassuringly on the shoulder, "Oh, well welcome to X High. First of all, you'll need to fill out a few of these forms." She starts picking up papers from several different stacks with her one free hand and piling them together for him. Then she eyes a tussle in the hallway and has to excuse herself, leaving Charles to himself and the papers he has to sign.  
>-<p>

The bell for first period finally rings and everyone clambers into their assigned classrooms. An eerie quiet covers the hallways as they go completely desolate. That is, desolate except for the group of five that are idling by their lockers and starting up a loud conversation about their failed classes and the dislikable teachers whose classes they're returning to this year. One of them in particular starts going off about his new disregard for authority and the rest back away from him when they notice the head honcho standing outside her office.  
>"Alex," she calls out, stopping him mid laugh.<p>

"Oh, hello m'am," he's suddenly polite and a lot more docile than he usually puts on. The rest of his group are standing off away from the action, watching his sad predicament with amusement in their eyes. He continues to rattle off "No, m'ams" and "Yes, m'ams" and in the end has a detention on his list of things to do after school. To worsen his situation, Erik makes sure to bring to light his inability to come through on his promises of independency. Then they leave it at that and start their way up the school's only flight of stairs, passing by a kid who all but Erik stop to taunt.  
>-<p>

Back in the hallways Charles is rushing to get to his first class. Filling out those forms took longer than he expected and he also had to wait on a schedule. So he would be just barely making it into the first few minutes of his first class of the day. "Good morning students and welcome back to X High," the principles voice comes in over the intercom with a forced excitement. She starts listing off things deemed necessary for the students to be informed about. Elsewhere, Charles is dashing in through the door of a classroom, making more than enough ruckus, and finds himself smiling desperately at the turn of heads in his direction.

* * *

><p>In the middle of the outdoor lunch room a guy with a luscious amount of orange hair on his head was sitting oddly hunched over his tray. It held doubles of everything and he didn't stop eating as he raised a hand to wave over the two he had been with this morning. "Saw Raven this morning," he slyly smirked in the other male's direction as he was sitting down. "She's looking mighty fine this year, huh, Hank?"<p>

"Your point?" Hank pushed up the glasses on his noise, not so as to adjust them, but more in a manner to hide his discomfort towards the topic. He was utterly grateful when two more showed up to their table and he took the chance to get off the subject, "Hello, Moira."

Everyone said a hello to Moira and she told Charles to take a seat as she went on to introduce everyone. "This here is Charles Xavier," she tilted her head in his direction, "and that's Hank, Sean, and this is Angel."

"He just moved here from England," she continued on and each of the three glanced Charles' way. There was a bit of an awkward silence and Moira tried to cover it up by questioning Hank on his new pair of glasses. He started to go off in detail about how much better this pair was from the last but Angel cut him short with a sarcastic, "You still look like a nerd."

"How do you like the school so far, Charles?" Sean was sitting the closest to the new student so he took it upon himself to start conversation. He seemed a little more interested in his lunch though, turning his eyes away to take a few more bites.

Charles wasn't oblivious to this so he made his answer short and simple, "It's different, " and then busied his mouth with the drink he had bought. Usually Charles is the one to be initiating conversation, sometimes going on and on about a subject even if no one is truly listening. He was good at choosing the right moments though and judging what would be suitable talk according to who was listening. At this time he decided it better to listen and get to know the people he was getting himself acquainted with first.  
>-<p>

On some other side of the school, where athletes were training themselves in their respective areas of expertise, a group of students were spending their free time on the bleachers. Five of these people were idly laid back in one corner, this being Erik and his loyal crew, and mocking the students who were below on the field. Only one of them was actually feeding himself even though it was lunch time.

"Hey," Raven interrupted their jeering remarks at one jock in particular, "any of you see that new guy at registration? I have to say, he was pretty attractive for what looks like a teacher's pet."

"Raven, do you sometimes forget you are the only female is this little group of ours?" one of the men pointed out, that man being Azazel. "To prove that point," he turned a disapproving eye towards Alex who was down a few steps from them. He was lying below one step in particular, directly under a couple of girls who were completely oblivious to his peering eyes. Azazel coughed loudly and venomously called out in his direction," Anytime you want to rejoin us, _Alex_."

The girls above Alex finally caught on due to Azazel's proclamation breaking them out of whatever it was they were so concentrated on. They spotted Alex looking up at them from below and almost screeched as they got up and stormed off to sit somewhere else. Alex only laughed.

"Anyway," Azazel continued on, "I want to hear about what Erik did at the beach."

There was a faint twitch in Erik's eye before he spoke, "Oh, it was nothing really." The hand he had wrapped around his other wrist tightened as the trio of guys egged him on, wondering if he did or saw anything interesting. As they did so Raven was watching ever so closely.

She smiled mischievously, "What about that boy you said you met? What was he like? Bet he was _cute_, huh?"  
>-<p>

"What did you do this summer, Charles?" the question that had been going around vigorously from ear to ear all day was just now being targeted at the blue eyed foreigner. Moira figured it was a place to start in getting him involved with her small group of friends and she wondered why she hadn't thought to inquire sooner. Especially after she saw his whole face light up and a slight red tint rise to the surface of his skin as he thought about the answer.

"I spent most of it at the beach." He paused, somewhat to ponder whether the next bit was acceptable to announce, but more so for dramatic effect. His smile widened just a fraction, "I met a boy there."

The inflection in his voice and the way the muscles of his face moved told more than enough what he meant when he said that. Everyone's eyes were on him now, shocked and maybe a little baffled. Then they all moved closer and Hank whispered the question on everyone's minds, "Are you telling us you're homosexual?"

Charles chuckled at this reaction and leaned into the huddle they were seemingly forming. He too took up a hushed tone, "Not exactly." Then he sat back and let that short sentence process.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Angel spat out in irritated confusion. "You either are or you aren't."

"No," Charles shook his head and then placed his chin in the palm of his hand as he rested his elbow on the table. His eyes distanced from where they were as he remembered the romantic trysts and he smiled warmly to himself. "He was special."  
>-<p>

"Why would you want to hear about _him_? It's not like you'll ever meet him, Raven, and he wouldn't date you even if you did."

"How would _you_ know he wouldn't date me?" Raven was almost presumptuous in the way she eyed him, head high and eyes staring down with a hard look that said she knew _everything_. Erik found himself shrinking under that stare.

He gulped down the air he had been holding in his throat and tries to sit up straighter, but only managing to look like he was fidgeting. He coughs into a fist-made hand and puts on his usual self-important guise, "I just know him. You're not his type. Now can we get off this subject? I'm sure you don't want to hear all these boring details."

"_Tell me more_."

Charles dished out his story easily and with much enthusiasm. He started his tale with the boring particulars on how he had come to vacation in this remote little area and finding the beach to be the only place he took interest in. The first run in he had with his mysterious lover was quickly recounted before diving into their actual meeting. He spoke of the way the man had apparently been showing off his swimming skills, but brushed over his incident involving him almost becoming one with the murky ocean and its creatures. It was from then on that he spoke almost inaudibly, with an increase in his anxious heartbeat, as he recalled all the sentimental moments leading up to their falling in love. His affection was visible across his entire self, from the way his eyes smiled to the dance his feet were doing under the table, as he talked about how charming and intelligent the other was. He laughed quietly into his hand though as he remembered how childlike his lover had been at times. Then he had to cover the flush in his face as he spoke of their last day together since the one thing on his mind was the one thing he wouldn't utter a word of. He wished to keep that one moment entirely to himself.

Erik, however, was less keen on verbalizing his activities from the summer to the four who surrounded him. His skin felt hot under his clothing as he embellished the story of himself saving a man from a watery demise. The long gazes, sweaty fingers entwined, sweet caresses, and all other romantic gestures they shared scattered throughout their limited days were completely erased from his telling. He talked of a man that he held captivating conversations with, someone who was intellectually on the same plane as him. This was someone who sounded like a passing ghost that only mattered when he needed a bit of companionship. As he spoke though Erik's eyes were saying something completely different. He was remembering those quaint silent walks vividly, that first time they looked at each other and suddenly understood what they were feeling, and all the things he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. No, the person he was talking of now was just a fleeting friend and it hurt to think of him that way.  
>-<p>

"Hey, uh," the group from lunch were walking their way back to class now and Moira was questioning a detail left out of the story they were just told, "what was his name?"  
>Charles looked at her, looking almost positively delighted that she asked, "Erik. Erik Lensherr."<p>

The two boys walking behind them suddenly started whispering furiously at each other and Angel and Moira were exchanging frantic glances before smacking the boys across their shoulders to get them to settle down. Charles looked back and forth among them in confusion.

Angel grabbed his attention and turned on a fake, pleasant smile," Maybe if you believe in miracles, Prince Charming will show up again someday… somewhere unexpected."


	3. CH 3: Vespas? No Regrets

Screams and shouts and cheers, as well as clapping and the loud song of instruments playing away—this is the sound of a roaring pep rally pumping up the students and players for their first game of the year. Encouraging signs are hoisted high into the air and cheerleaders are chanting their go-fight-win rhymes. There are those that are jumping around and having a good time. Then there are those wondering why they're even there.

Angel, Hank, Sean, and Moira are part of the latter. Charles, to their dismay, is filled to the brim with school spirit. He's chanting right along with the rest of them, right in the front of the crowd. He's whooping and hollering and just making a right fool of himself. Though so is everyone else so I guess you could say he blends in. The principle finally makes her way to the microphone at the front of the field, "Quiet please! Quiet everyone," and the shouting sea calms down. Charles pushes through the crowd to get back to his small group of friends and takes a seat next to them as the coach is introduced.

The coach comes to the front and there's another wave of screaming and drum beats, but he raises his hands to quiet them again. He starts up a long speech on how their team is going to rip the other to shreds, a speech that in any other context would sound brutal and horrid. You could see on some faces that they were thinking just that, while everyone else is listening with smiles and inspired gleams in their eyes. Charles turns to Moira with a smile and she smiles back, "Having fun, Charles?"

"Oh, yes. It's always great to get together and motivate one another. It really brings the school together for once, I think." The speech ends and his amused laughter, brought on by being drunk on social stimulation, is drowned out by the continuing celebration.

Further away from all the ruckus Erik is standing absentmindedly amongst the cars. His three companions Alex, Azazel, and Janos were with him, but not calmly observing all the commotion as he was. They were joking and playing around and just looking like fools, but not in a unified pep rally sort of way. After having enough of listening to their banter he turns to face them with a glare, "Would you stop? You look ridiculous."

They stopped, just like soldiers ordered by their higher officer. They leant themselves against the car they stood next to and tried to appear more dignified, though they just looked like they were posing for a picture. Then they heard this _vbrrrrmm _noise coming up behind them and they turned and laughed at what they saw.

"So, what do you think?" Raven inquired as she removed the helmet from her head, blonde hair flowing out lavishly.

"A vespa, Raven, really?" there was a bit of amusement in Erik's eyes at the sight of this.

"Yeah, Raven, we thought when you said 'wheels' you meant a car. Not this… scooter."

"Oh, shut it," she snapped at the other three and looked back to Erik. "I'm racing her at Thunder Road."

"Racing _vespas_?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Raven grabbed Alex by the collar and their little quibble continued on. Erik was already backing away from the two wheeled vehicle, mind wandering elsewhere. He just wasn't finding any of this as fun or interesting as he used to and he knew why.

A chorus of _vbrrrrmm_s came riding up the road and all five of them stopped to watch the group going past. What seemed to be the leader, a dark haired man with a regal look about him, returned the glaring gaze. "What are the Hellfires doing here?" one of them questioned. "This isn't their turf."

"You think they want to fight?" a crack of knuckles was heard from Raven.

"If they do we'll be ready for them," Erik stated, watching the enemy gang drive past and their leader throw a threatening punch in the air.

Back among the pep rallying crowd things were starting to die down. There were still students dancing around the huge bonfire and playing their instruments, but many of them were headed off on their way. Charles was just walking aimlessly through the people, letting the excitement wash out as he returned goodbyes to those who gave them. One of the more daring of the lot came up behind him and slapped him on the ass as she walked by. He jumped to some extent from the shock of it, but laughed at the gesture.

"Woah! Getting a bit touchy there don't you think?" Moira all but shouted at the girl.

"It's fine, Moira," Charles soothed, waving off the other woman who was ready to start a fight over Moira's outburst. "Just a bit of teasing."  
>"Hi, Charles."<p>

"Hello, Angel!" Charles brightened at the arrival of the rest of his friends.

"We have a surprise for you," she took him by the arm and started to lead him off without his consent. He attempted to stop his sudden whisking away and ask where he was being taken when he saw the somewhat worried looks but only ended up stumbling along without another word. Moira made to fix up his mussed hair and straighten his clothes as they walked, but he brushed off her odd behavior and sidled up to Sean to pester him about this 'surprise' instead.

Charles' group were walking like an entourage around him, treading confident and smug into the Brotherhood's space who were busy chatting away about Raven's new investment. "Hey, Lensherr!" Angel shouted to grab the so mentioned's attention. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Is that right?" he stepped up in between his own friends and the others, a sound of mock in his voice.

Angel replied with a positive word and sarcastically returned his ridicule as they pushed Charles out into the open, him having to quickly stop himself or else face falling over. When he looked up both of the men's faces went from a casual expression to that of shock at the sight of each other. "Charles!" his tone changed, his face lit up, and he moved even further forward out of his body remembering the intimate proximity that was necessary, wanted, with this certain individual.

"Erik!" Charles could nearly laugh from the blissful feeling overcoming him, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing here?" he pushed, wondering how this meeting was even possible. "I… I thought you were going back to England." This affectionate transformation in their leader had the rest of the Brotherhood looking at each other from behind him with perplexed glances. They stood themselves up right and moved into the man's space, practically pressing their selves against him.

A small laugh now left Charles' throat as he beamed, "There was a change of plans."

"I can't-" he stopped as he noticed the presence around him. He looked from side to side to take in the faces of his friends and it came rushing back to him how he usually acts and how it would be damaging to his reputation to be seen acting this way, especially when he's gushing over another male. He put some space between them, completely stopped making eye contact as he retrieved his arrogant attitude, "I see." The rest of the Brotherhood, relieved at this welcome change, moved their gaze to the other group.

"Erik?" Charles was a bit flustered by the sudden disregard.  
>"That's my name, alright."<br>"What's the matter with you?"

"Me? What's the matter with _you_?" those behind him laughed at his banter and Erik kept up the silly charade, relieved it was going well. As well as it could. It was obvious this wasn't going in the right direction for his relationship with Charles.

"Just what are you getting at? This isn't like you, Erik. What happened to the you I met at the beach?"

He stopped to check the reactions to this question in his fellow acquaintances' expressions. When he saw that they hadn't a worry towards what the other was saying he went on, "I don't know what you mean. Maybe there's two of me." The chuckling in the background he received from this comment egged him on, "You could file a missing person's report, check the yellow pages, I don't know." He kept his eyes on the four behind him, not so much as to make sure his reputation wasn't at stake anymore, but so he wouldn't have to see the hurt in Charles' eyes.

Charles kept himself calm, looking back and forth from his former lover to the chortling children behind him. "Oh," he acknowledged his understanding with a nod of his head, "I see how it is." He took an intimidating step forward," Erik Lensherr, I never once thought you to be a coward and a fake, but this little stunt proves otherwise. Well, this obviously means you won't be seeing any further of _me_." He yanked down on the bottom of his sweater vest to indicate _exactly_ what he meant by that before turning on his heel and storming away, leaving the circus of imbeciles behind him. Moira followed after.

Angel stayed behind for a few seconds more just to watch Erik's sullen look as his eyes followed after Charles' receding backside. While the other's continued to tease on about the smartly-dressed fellow Erik was busy regretting every word he said. One glance at the woman standing across from him, looking back at him with a snarky grin plastered across her face, and he knew that even she thinks he should have damned the consequences. He watched her pull the other two away and walk off and then he meant to head off on his own as well, but the quartet behind him called him back and he couldn't refuse.

In his dismay, Charles found himself a car to lean against, it taking his all to not just drop to the ground and sit there in his cloud of gloom. "I can't believe him," he mainly muttered to himself. "He never struck me as the type to care what other's thought of him, but there he was," he threw a hand in the air as if to point back to that moment, "Decidedly ignoring what we had just so a few immature… _children_… would still look up to him."

"He was an idiot to throw you away like that, Charles," Moira consoled. "Just forget about him, he isn't worth your worry if he's afraid to show you off."

"Oh, sweet, sweet Moira," he straightens himself and pets a hand through her hair and smiles sadly. "Heartbreak is anything but easy to get past."

Moira smiles as well and takes his hand in her own, "You know what you need?"

"What?"  
>"A night out. I'm having a get together at my house tonight. You should come along."<p>

"That sounds great," he wraps an arm around her shoulder and her an arm around his waist and they begin to make their way out of the slowly dissipating parking lot.

* * *

><p>Back at Moira's house, all five of them have piled into her room. Sean is being a goof in front of the television and Angel, who was busy checking herself out in the mirror, threw a stuffed animal in his face to make him stop his annoying act. The rest were just silently sitting to themselves. Sean reluctantly turned the TV off under Angel's looming glare, making talking a bit of a must or else they be condemned to an uncomfortable silence. Charles popped open a wine cooler for himself and Moira started to open her mouth, but Angel cut in before she could start up some boring conversation on school or sports.<p>

"So, that Lensherr guy," she smirked.  
>"Angel!" Moira scolded. "Is that really appropriate?"<p>

"Oh, I don't mind," Charles waved off the question with a flick of his wrist. "Ask away! Though I'm sure I already told you everything when we met."

Jumping onto the bed and laying down on her stomach, Angel propped herself up with her arms and smiled devilishly. "I'm certain there's one detail you left out. Don't think I can't tell when two people have slid into home base together," she wagged her finger in joking disapproval.

"So that's where you're going," he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and looked down at his drink. "I'd rather keep that to myself, thank you."

By this point Hank decided he needed to clarify this conversation for himself, because what he thought didn't quite fit with his image of the other male. "Hold on. Charles, is she saying you had sex with him?"

"Yes, yes!" Charles threw his hands in the air, still clasping his drink.  
>"<em>Really<em>?" he pushed. "I didn't think you the type."

"What makes you think that, Hank?" This actually did puzzle Charles. Sure, he didn't publicize that, yes, he liked to have a good time, but it seemed odd that someone close to him seemed to think it impossible.

"It's just," Hank gestured to Charles' clothing, "the way you dress…"

"I don't think you have room to talk," Sean butted in, pointing out the plaid button up Hank wore and mentioning the occasional sweater vest.

"I'm not saying I'm all that fashionable either," he groans at Sean before returning his attention to Charles, "It's just, the way you dress makes you seem an old man."

"Are you making fun of my attire?"

Hank was about to profusely apologize, while Charles was readying himself to defend his warm cardigans when their attention was caught by something from outside. The cackling laughter they had heard so much of earlier that night was making its way up Moira's driveway.

Sure enough, the Brotherhood was pulling into the drive, Raven and Erik straddling the new vespa and driving as slow as possible since the other three were straggling behind on foot, yet still whooping and hollering. The two on the vehicle stood up from their seating positions and Raven yelled behind her at the ones just showing up, "Would you shut it!" and they quieted down.

"I changed my mind. Let's get out of here," Erik kept his eyes low as he inwardly hoped they would comply without questions. That was only wishful thinking though. They pestered him with why's and he ended up shouting to make them silent again.

Inside the house, everyone had crowded around the only window in the room to take a look out. Charles only tried to catch a small glimpse before drifting back over to his spot on the floor. The rest stayed excitedly in the curtains, Moira asking out loud for an explanation as to why they were even here. Then they all looked up when they heard Hank speak, "I'm going to head out, okay?" He slipped on his shoes and started for the door.

"Where's he going?"  
>"You know he has a thing for that Raven," Sean answered.<p>

Hank appeared outside, making a beeline for the blonde as the others on the pavement yelled snide remarks before getting shot down again. He turned his eyes to the ground, "Hi, Raven."

"Hey, Hank," she smiled.

"Erik," he nodded in the man's direction, a minor disappointed look in his eyes due to earlier events. Erik only nodded in return, still feeling guilty, before turning his back and trudging down the driveway.

"Where are you going?" one of the three asked.

"Anywhere is better than hanging around with you idiots," he tried to sound joking but it didn't quite make it out that way and he could hear the upset shouts calling after him as he left. After that Raven forced the three clowns off her back, forcing them to go find something to do without her, and took Hank for a ride.

After all the commotion was over the four left behind ended up keeping to themselves for the most part of the night. Sure, they had a few small conversations here and there, but the night wasn't without its hushed moments.

"Well," Charles stood up during one of these silences and pushed his hair back with a swipe of his hand, "I'm going to go get some air."

He stepped out into the dark, only a small chill racing up his spine seeing as it was barely fall and still pretty warm. The crickets were out and playing a noisy tune. Even a few frogs were croaking along to fill up what would otherwise be a silent night. He meant to only sit down on the porch for a moment, clear his head and head back in, but he soon found himself wandering around the yard. He couldn't shake that heavy feeling in his chest, that pressure crushing down on him that constantly reminded him of what he wished he could just forget.

That rough hand he could still feel in his own. Some of their conversations he could still replay word for word. He could remember the way his heart would stop for a moment whenever he was able to see one of those rare, no holding back, toothy grins. There was no forgetting the way Erik made him feel and it felt useless hoping he would ever find someone like that again; someone headstrong, sharp, and maybe a little awkward. A person he could listen to talk about the most mundane things for hours on end and still find himself stirred up by the way his name slips off that tongue. Not a one but Erik was able to make him feel right in the world just by feeling his eyes on him.

That's the problem. He can't get _ErikErikErik_ out of his head. He's told himself over and over again that it's been made clear they're over, no more, nothing at all, but that just makes it hurt worse. He'd rather think about the way they _were_ and hope that it'll be the way they _are _instead of reminding himself of the way it _is_, because those thoughts are slightly less miserable. He can't help himself. He knows the reason Erik shirked him was a silly one and he can't help to think that Erik will do the right thing and let himself be himself.

Finally he shakes his head and tries to clear all those thoughts away for now. He's going back inside to spend time with the friends he's made and he doesn't need this misfortunate turn of events to weigh him down from having a good time. He puts his hands down his pockets and starts on his way to return to Moira's room, that _ErikErikErik_ still tugging at the back of his mind anyway.


	4. CH 4: On the Edge of Fetishism

Erik wasn't even half paying attention to Raven as they stood in front of the 50s styled restaurant that the majority of students took pleasure in hanging out at. She was shouting about something and pointing angrily at a group of vespa riders who were driving past. He only knew it was the Hellfire gang she was complaining about because they were the only ones he knew around here that rode such ridiculous contraptions. He didn't know what she was saying about them or what they were shouting about from their automated scooters and frankly he didn't care. Charles was most certainly upset with him and that was all that mattered.

"Are you still thinking about Sweater-Vest?" Raven nudged him with her shoulder when she noticed he was off in his own mind. The three less intuitive friends of theirs may not see what's going on but, being Erik's best friend, Raven knew exactly what was bothering him. She knew from the beginning and felt awful for egging on Erik's rude attitude at the rally, but she couldn't understand how Erik could fall for such a person. Of course, this is the man who wears turtlenecks during the summer so maybe she should be asking how the other guy could have possibly fallen in love with Erik. "The guy who wears the sweater vests, Charles, I think," she clarified when Erik looked at her with confused eyes.

It showed in his expression when he registered who she was talking about; widened eyes, mouth slightly parting, and Raven could swear there was a slight blush coming to the surface of his skin. Then his hand grabbed her shoulder and pushed her towards the door, "Stop being ridiculous."

"But, Erik, I thought-!" he kept moving her forward, into the building, ignoring her try at turning this into a conversation. "Okay, fine, I get it!" her hands went up in defense and she made her own way around the front of the restaurant and into the cluster of tables. They began looking for an open seat, only to find their three cronies already waving them over to a booth they had been occupying for a while now.

As they made their way over Erik spotted Charles across the restaurant, sitting at a table with Moira MacTaggert. His eyes narrowed at the closeness of their hands as they dipped their spoons into an ice cream they seemed to be sharing. He sat down, his eyes remaining on Charles, his fingers folded into his hair in some strange attempt to seem inconspicuous. Then Charles looked his way, bottom lip catching between his teeth as he notices who is watching him. In reflex Erik quickly turns around, his heart pounding.

"How about I go put on some new music?" Charles questioned, smiling at Moira as he stood up from the table and pulled some change from his pocket. She didn't say a word back, only nodded, looking almost smitten. On the other hand, her date didn't seem to be paying a great deal of attention to her. His eyes were glued on someone else and he continued to nervously chew on his lip as he walked away from the table and made his way towards the juke box.

He made a point to walk directly past the booth Erik was sitting at, having to stop right in front of him to wait for Raven to move her legs out of the walkway. He put his hands up in front of him as he came to a halt in front them. Both he and Raven exchanged glances and he had to keep from grinning when he realized she knew exactly what he was doing.

When he reached the old music player he pushed a couple of quarters through the allotted slot, but he just mindlessly flipped through the collection of songs. From his peripheral he could see Erik move from his seat, make a loop around the booth he had been sitting at, and then anxiously sit down in a chair he was passing by. He couldn't stop the smile forming on his face because this awkward maneuver reminded him of the Erik he knew, determined but hesitant in his pursuit. Charles tried to make himself look busy. If he was caught knowing what Erik was doing it was likely to stall him completely, turn him right back around to his friends, and Charles was already getting giddy from the thought of talking to Erik once more. So he turned his back in Erik's direction and stared down at the quickly passing titles he was shuffling through, stopping on a song called "Love Love" just as Erik slinked up beside him.

"Hello, Charles," he said, trying to act as though this was a complete accidental meeting. "Fancy meeting you here."

He wanted nothing but to play along with the charade, pretend nothing happened and everything was alright between the two them. It wasn't alright though and he knew he had to be the one to try and do something about it or else there would just be a repeat of what happened at the rally. "Are you sure you should be talking to me? What with your friends right over there and all? They might think something is up." He attempted to sound snarky and uninterested, but there was a smile creeping onto his lips and a chuckle rising up his throat.

"I didn't mean those things I said." Charles couldn't stop himself from turning to face Erik, wanting to see what sort of expression he was wearing for such an apology. The man's usual stern look was softened, his eyes staring straight at Charles with a sincere want to be forgiven. He was going to give him just what he wanted too, already had, because it was impossible for him to stay angry with Erik for long. "I was just fooling around, I hope you understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You are too dependent on your reputation, too afraid to let those around you see you for who you really are," the inevitable shove at Erik's fault just erupted from him, needing to be said and out there for Erik to grasp. Helping people understand themselves was something Charles couldn't keep himself from doing, even when the receiver of his insight was unwilling to listen. Erik, though, looked like he was pondering the knowledge, nodding at the statement, agreeing.

He ran a hand over the top of his head and leaned against the machine they stood at. He was silent as his eyes swept over Charles and then he remembered something and frowned at the thought, "What are you doing here with MacTaggart? It looks like more than a friendly outing."

"Are you jealous?"

"Me? Jealous?" his face lit up with almost an amusement at the thought and he looked back at the straight haired, boring looking woman who was staring in their direction. Charles let a reassuring smile play over his lips and he wiggled his fingers in a way of waving at her to let her know he didn't forget she was there. Moira hesitantly waved back, unsure of the current interaction she was viewing. "Hardly."

Charles eyed the juke box again, watching the song change, as Erik coughed and fidgeted behind him. He was practically dancing on his feet and it was amusing and endearing and it was making Charles fall in love all over again. He couldn't let that change his mind though. He had decided to give Moira a go and she was making him happy and he knew letting Erik back in his life would just cause more complications. "I like Moira. She knows who she is and she doesn't let others change that."

He wasn't just trying to push Erik's buttons, though he will admit it was nice to think Erik jealous. His time with Moira was enjoyable and she made him feel good about himself. Certainly there was something lacking. Unlike with his former lover, Charles never had his heartbeat go erratic, he was never anxious to see her, and he was always able to lock eyes with her (_she_ seemed incapable of doing that last part though). With Moira he didn't have the excitement and passion he had had with Erik. Every day with Erik had felt new and fresh and his days with Moira were slowly becoming dull and repetitive.

"I bet she never wants to do anything you want to," Erik suddenly chimed, eyeing her with disgust before turning his pupils on Charles. "It's always you biding to her whims."

"I don't mind going to the places she enjoys and it's not like I often want to do anything myself." The way he scratched the back of his head and turned his eyes to the floor, smiling to his self, told Erik otherwise.

The man straightened his posture and grinned with smug self-confidence," I'll go with you. Wherever you want. Whatever you want." He felt so sure of himself now. If there was one thing he could do that Moira couldn't, it was this. He would do anything for Charles, no exceptions, and that was what he would use to pull him back in his direction. He would pull, yank, ensnare him in his arms again and this time he wouldn't foolishly let go.

"Erik, that really isn't nece—" an index finger pressed against his lips to quite his objections.

"You name it, I'll do it," Erik pulled back and pointed a thumb in the brunette's direction," then tell me you still like MacTaggart."

* * *

><p>"So, tell me again why we are doing this?" Erik and Charles were standing side by side, dressed in god-awful short shorts and matching t-shirts. Erik held a basketball between his palms and Charles was smiling cheerfully out at the team of players that were readying themselves on the court. The coach of the team was standing just a few feet behind the newcomers, telling them to throw the ball in and start the game. He didn't even bother to explain how this game was played, assuming that if one was trying out they already knew how.<p>

"I have always wanted to try out for a team. It's one thing cheering for a game, but being in one," Charles turned around and backed up to be standing face to face with Erik, holding up his hands for Erik to throw the ball to him. He wiggled his knees back and forth as he waited, hips moving almost seductively and the short fabric hanging from his waist trying with all its might not to ride up.

Erik blankly stared back at him. Then he began wondering if it would be okay to unleash the ball upon Charles. Maybe he should be the one throwing the ball in and Erik should run it down into the court of carnivorous ball stealers. No matter how he looked at it, he was basically sending Charles to the slaughter. "Charles, you hate conflict. Not to mention, you haven't an ounce of stamina in your body."

"What makes you say that?" his fingers gesturing for the ball to be thrown persuaded Erik into releasing it to him. "If I had no stamina we wouldn't have stayed on that beach for as long as we did that last night." With that he turned and clumsily dribbled the ball onto the court, stopping to get a handle of the rhythm and decide where to send the ball next. Erik was left at the edge of the court, feeling somewhat flustered at Charles' unhesitant mention of their last summer night together. Then he eyed an enemy player moving in on Charles who was too busy thinking strategy then paying attention to his surroundings and he quickly gathered himself to sprint over to Charles' side, blocking the player from making his move. "You should join the chess team; you don't have the time here to plan your moves."

"Really? With you here I seem to have all the time in the world," he finally passed the ball off to a teammate who passed it to another and then the ball was sent flying into the net and a score made.

Erik next found himself dressed in grey sweats that loosely framed his body. On Charles they unfairly emphasized his thick thighs and wide-set hips as though their sole purpose was to grab Erik's attention and, oh, they did. Honestly, he had to admit they were a step up from the basketball uniform. Not that that was any consolation in this case.

"Okay, get down," instead of grabbing an experienced wrestler from the team for demonstrations, the coach decided it would be quite fine to give a step by step to the two beginners. So, Erik now found himself on his knees, tensely hovering over Charles who was on all fours. The coach took both of Erik's arms in his hands and moved him like a puppet, having him wrap one hand around Charles' wrist and his opposite arm around Charles' waist. "In this position you could just flip your opponent over and pin him down by the arms and waist." Erik was starting to get the feeling that this coach was purposefully trying to make things sexually frustrating for him.

The instructor backed away, picked up the whistle around his neck and blew into it. Apparently this was the sign to begin, almost like teaching a dog tricks, and Erik reluctantly obeyed the sound. He flipped Charles over onto his back, pinned his arms above his head, and straddled his waist. _No. This isn't erotic at all_, he told himself and deciding it a bad idea to sit there for long.

He looked down as he steadied himself to stand up from the position he was in, but his eyes locked with Charles' and he found himself unable to pull away. The vivid blue irises staring up at him seemed to draw closer the longer he stared and overwhelm his own vision. Pretty soon he felt as though he and Charles were the only two in existence. As his fingers clasped tighter around the wrists he held he could feel the erratic rush of blood through the veins from Charles' heart speeding up. He could feel Charles' breathe coming in long, deep intervals through the movement of his stomach beneath him. His adam's apple moved up and down in a gulp, he saw every tiny movement of his jaw as he chewed at the inside of his cheeks, and he didn't miss a single flick of his tongue as he nervously kept wetting his lips.

Then this ridiculous grin spread across his face and one of his eyebrows rose higher than the other, "If I said you had a great body, would you hold it against me?"

"You did not just use that idiotic line on me," Erik used the broken moment to quickly remove himself from the other, standing up and swiping his loose bangs back. Laughter flowed up from the floor where Charles was sitting up on his elbows and Erik held out a hand to help him up. "Don't tell me that for a second there you were not shouting in your head _yes_ and near letting me do as I pleased with you," Charles tapped a couple of fingers against his temple and smiled devilishly, "I know you were." And, truthfully, Erik really had.

"Tell me, Charles," Erik placed his hands atop each other and leaned forward against the bat he now held, "For how much longer are we going to be vainly trying out for sports teams?"

He looked over at the dugout where Charles was standing against the chain link fence in front of it, looking as though he wasn't planning on answering. Like Erik, he was wearing a pair of white pants with a blue stripe down the sides of them and a yellow and blue team shirt. Once again, uniforms were proving to be the epitome of Erik's frustration with their unique ability to highlight one's anatomy. Charles also had a batting glove on his hand and he was staring contemplatively at the helmet he held until he seemed to come to a conclusion and looked up at Erik, "Do you think this would give me horrible helmet hair?"

When they finally reached the last stop on their athletic journey they were clothed in matching drab sweats again. The last team on their voyage was track. All they were doing is running, running on a mile long circular path, there was no reason to slack off or mess up. It being the end, Erik had it in his mind that he needed to show off and make sure he had Charles tightly in his grasp and out of Moira's reach. The hurdles coming up in front of him were perfect for just that.

While Charles, just a couple feet behind him and already breathing heavy, moved over into a lane empty of the approaching obstacles, Erik sped up slightly and jumped the first one with a successful landing. Then he cleared the second and third one and he could feel Charles watching him.

"It's bloody hot out here," he suddenly heard Charles exclaim and he found himself turning his gaze over to his running partner, who was slowing down and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. Instead of stopping his run as well, Erik's feet kept moving and his eyes were stuck on Charles' sweaty torso so it was only expected that the next hurdle in his way sent him toppling into the ground. He basically face-planted into the black rubbery track, but in all hopes that Charles had somehow become distracted in that short moment, he jumped right back up. He was sure he heard Charles shouting, but he was too busy trying to regain his balance to properly hear him.

"Erik, are you alright?" Charles was standing next to him now, hands grabbing at his arm as he tried to just keep walking along the track like nothing happened. He felt like that fall was the sign of their relationship officially crumbling away into nothing. He had ruined everything and Charles was going to downright leave him for that—"Erik, talk to me!"

He turned on the spot, Charles having to quickly come to a stop and keep his balance or else face a collision of bodies. They were only a foot apart now and Charles could feel the warmth radiating from Erik's body and there was a tense moment of quite while Erik stared him down before asking, "Are you still going to date Moira?"

"Well," Charles shrugged. He didn't want to make this easy. He couldn't be sure that Erik had his whole self in the emerging relationship, that there wasn't a foot out the door ready to leave once things got complicated.

"Well," Erik reiterated, making Charles smile, "are you taking her to the dance?"

"That all depends."

"On what?"

The look in Charles eyes darkened and his jaw tensed, "On you."

"On me?" Erik pointed at himself.

"Yes," was the reply, in a lower tone and almost at a whisper.

"Then I guess she'll be finding another date," he wrapped an arm around Charles' waist, pulling him in close to his side and smugly walked off the track with him.


End file.
